


Naked

by kblynne



Series: Dramione Song-Fics [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23285488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kblynne/pseuds/kblynne
Summary: 'Cause here I amI'm giving all I canBut all you ever do is mess it upYeah, I'm right hereI'm tryna make it clearThat getting half of you, just ain't enoughIn the face of this Covid-19 crisis, I'm out of work for at least two weeks (I live in NY). So, I asked one of my Facebook groups to suggest songs with the promise that I'll write a one-shot Dramione fanfic inspired by the song. This is one such story.Thank you Maria for your suggestion! It's been my pleasure to be introduced to and inspired by this beautiful song!Song: NakedArtist: James Arthur
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione Song-Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673083
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Naked

Draco Malfoy was a new person returning to Hogwarts for his sixth year. Last year he’d been a normal teenager, who’s biggest concerns were his studies and his ability to get girls into his bed. This year he was older, wiser, and much more dangerous. With his sleeves worn permanently down, he disguised his new title as he made his way to his home away from home, a place where he’d be forced to commit not one atrocity, but two. Every part of him felt different. He felt cold, and distant, and bitter. The burden set before him weighed heavy every minute of every day. And if that wasn’t troubling enough, he had the additional burden of her.

He didn’t know what it was that was so different about Hermione Granger this year that had him completely incapable of keeping his eyes off of her. Perhaps it was that she’d once again grown more womanly, or that her features had softened, or maybe it was the fact that every once in a while she looked at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. It nagged at him, as though she saw right through him, and pitied him. He hated the feeling, but at the same time, it made him crave the chance to be alone with her, to pour his soul out to her and confide in her like he couldn’t with anyone else in this damned castle.

The day that Draco first caved into his desperate desire to be alone with her came a few weeks into the new term. Draco and Hermione had been paired together on Friday night patrols, which had seemed absurd to him at first, because the year prior their Prefect patrols had been carried out with the partner from their own house. But despite his many protests and complaints, he wasn’t as bothered by it as he seemed to be. On the contrary, he was trying to build up the courage to talk to her. What could he even say to her?

“Wait,” Draco said suddenly, putting his arm out in front of her to stop her. “I think I heard something in here.” It was a lie, he hadn’t heard anything. He hadn’t heard a single sound except for their footsteps echoing through the corridor all evening. But it was something, something to get her alone, away from where any professors or fellow prefects could find them. It was certainly worth a shot.

Hermione took the initiative to enter the classroom first, and Draco went in behind her, closing the door behind them. “Lumos,” she spoke, illuminating the room. She looked around for a moment, before turning back to her Slytherin counterpart. “Malfoy, there’s no one here,” she said, sounding annoyed. 

“Guess not,” Draco agreed, as though it’d been an honest mistake. He leaned against the door, blocking her from leaving.

“What are you playing at?” she asked him suspiciously. She approached him bravely. “Let’s go.”

“What’s the rush, Granger?” he asked her. He watched the confusion cross her face as she wondered if she should be worried or not. “Scared to be alone with a dangerous Slytherin like me?” He knew the question would cement her need to prove herself.

“No, of course not. It’s not as though you’re going t-” Before she could finish her sentence his lips on hers silenced her, his hand cupping the back of her head under her hair, drawing her closer to him. Her eyes widened in shock, assuming at first that the unexpected kiss was meant as an assault, before she recognized the tenderness. Her eyes closed as she tried to make sense of her lips moving against his. A soft hum slipped from her, exposing her enjoyment of the kiss, and Draco took this as permission, walking her without breaking their connection to the nearest desk. Hermione sat atop it when she felt the tabletop against her legs, and allowed Draco to stand between her legs as he deepened the kiss. 

It was intoxicating, kissing her. He never wanted to stop, and what’s more was that she was letting him, she was actually kissing him back! It was going better than he could have hoped, and when he broke away from her for air he mourned the loss of her.

“What was that?” Hermoine asked in a whisper, gripping the edge of the desk on either side of her with white knuckles. Her face was red with embarrassment that he couldn’t see in the darkness.

“I’ve spent the last three weeks trying not to do that, and I just couldn't anymore,” he confessed. Draco was aware that the best way to gain Hermione’s trust would be transparency. If she asked him a question, he needed to answer it with as much honesty as he could spare.

Hermione stared into his silver eyes, illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the classroom’s windows. “I don’t understand,” she admitted.

“I don’t either,” Draco admitted. “I’m supposed to hate you, aren’t I? But I just can’t seem to do that anymore.”

Hermione’s heart was pounding in her chest. Her mind told her that this had to be a rouse, that he was messing with her, playing a prank, entrapping her somehow. But as she looked at him, she couldn’t see it. He seemed to be speaking so openly, so candidly. She couldn’t help but believe him, even if it went against her better judgement.

“I’m not... “ Hermione tried to think of her words carefully. “I’m not just going to hook up with you. So if you’re looking for a quick shag, you’re not going to-”

“I’m not,” Draco interrupted her to say. “I’ve got other resources for that if I wanted them.” Hermione scoffed. He continued. “I don’t care about that.”

“So what do you want with me then?” Hermione asked skeptically, guarding herself the best that she could.

Draco took a moment to consider his best answer to what was clearly a test. “I want what Potter has,” he confessed, a slight bitterness edging in his voice. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, probably to say that she and Potter weren’t involved, but he cut her off before she could. “You’re his friend, the person he confides in, the person he trusts.” Hermione’s mouth shut in her surprise. She clearly hadn’t expected that kind of answer. “I don’t see why he gets to be the only one to have that.”

Hermione was a little stunned by that sentiment, and her heart was pounding anxiously again. She’d felt many things in the presence of Malfoy and his cronies before, but flustered, like her stomach was filled with aggravated butterflies, had never been one of them. “You have friends,” she pointed out weakly.

Draco gave Hermione a look, as though the fact that his friends weren’t what he needed should have been obvious. “Not ones that I can confide in the way I need to.” He was silent for a moment, and she tried to wrap her mind around it.

“What is it you need to confide to someone?” Hermione asked softly after the very pregnant pause. When he didn’t answer right away, she made him a promise she’d probably regret after. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

Draco believed her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only the first of what turned into weekly trysts, taking advantage of their patrol schedule to find time to be alone, to talk, and to fool around. It was the second weekend in October, however, that Hermione sought Draco out on her own, finding him, shockingly, on the seventh floor. 

She entered an empty classroom and waited for him to follow her. He did, and when he approached to kiss her, she put a hand on his chest to stop him. “What happened to Katie?” Hermione asked, sounding very much like she already knew. Draco looked as though the question were a slap across the face.

“What are you talking about?” Draco asked dumbly. He tried very hard not to lie to her, but he’d never been confronted with a question of this magnitude. When she looked at him through tear filled eyes, his resolve broke. “She wasn’t supposed to get hurt,” Draco confessed. He sat on the edge of a desk, looking at his shoes. “I told her not to touch it. She was never supposed to touch it.”

Hermione covered her mouth as tears sprang from her chocolaty orbs. “How could you?” she cried in a whisper. 

“You think I wanted to?” Draco didn’t mean to yell at her, he was yelling at himself, really. “You think I want to do any of the things I do?” Even knowing that he wasn’t yelling at her, she still looked as though his words hurt her like a slap to the face. Draco hated himself for it.

“Harry’s sure it was you,” Hermione warned him. “He tried to tell McGonagall.” She sniffed deeply, fighting to speak through her tears. “Why?”

“Please don’t ask me that again,” Draco implored her. “I couldn’t bear for you to know.” 

Hermione looked as though she wanted to say something, but instead she walked out of the room, wiping the tears from her eyes as she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was weeks before Hermione had allowed Draco to touch her, to kiss her, or to talk about anything remotely personal. Finally one evening while she was studying in the library Draco caught her against a bookshelf, hoping to defrost her with his kiss, much like that first time. It worked at first. She accepted his touch at long last, snogging him deeply and moaning happily into his mouth. She permitted him one hand inside of her shirt, groping her small breasts through her thin lace bra, but when his other hand tried to sneak underneath her skirt, he’d only just begun to rub her between her legs over her cotton panties when she broke her lips from his.

“I have to go.” The words Hermione spoke acted as a knife through Draco’s heart yet again. He watched as she pulled her clothes back into place. “I shouldn’t have come.” The twist of the knife. It was all Draco could do not to cry. 

“Then why did you?” Draco dared to ask against his better judgement, his voice hard as his steely eyes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her answer. 

Hermione looked at him finally, her brown eyes sad with pity. “Draco,” she whispered his name. She rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. His closed as well as he breathed in the smell of her shampoo. Lavender and vanilla. “I don’t know what you expect to happen between us.” It was less an answer than a question of its own. A question he also didn’t know how to answer.

“Are you ever going to tell them?” Draco asked instead. Hermione’s head shot up, staring at him as if she couldn’t make sense of his words.

“Tell them? It’s hard enough to not tell them what I know as it is. You know I can’t do that, any more than you can tell-”

“But what if I did?” Draco interrupted her urgently. “What if I told them?” There was almost a threat to his words, his aggravation beginning to seep through. 

Hermione grabbed her bag off the floor and took a couple steps away from him. “You wouldn’t.” He knew she was right, the threat had been empty from the start. “We both know it wouldn’t work,” Hermione further reasoned. She slung the bag over her shoulder and with one more glance in his direction, she disappeared between the many rows of bookshelves. 

Draco shoved a row of books off the end of the shelf, watching as they all clattered to the floor loudly. From across the library, Hermione started, pausing only briefly as she heard what she knew to be Draco’s tantrum over her words. Tears stung at her eyes as she rushed out of the library to hurry back to the Gryffindor dorm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He watched her from the Slytherin table at dinner, while she sat with her two boyfriends. It was late November now, and things between him and Hermione were still touch and go. Weasley was thankfully too thick to understand what an amazing thing he had right in front of him, and Potter, who had already gotten everything Draco ever wanted, well, he could only hope that he didn’t try to take her from him as well. She looked up from her plate, feeling his gaze on her, and their eyes locked for a few moments. He attempted a smile in her direction, but it came across as more of a smirk, and she blushed in response, looking away again. She said something he couldn’t read to those around her and stood, exiting the great hall. Draco’s stomach sank heavily. He waited a minute or two, debating whether or not she wanted him to follow. Just then, something in his pocket turned hot, and he withdrew the coin she’d gifted him for communication.

“Behind the greenhouses in ten,” the tiny words appeared and then vanished around the rim of the token. Draco finished his meal, before heading out to the location she’d noted. It wasn’t like her to set the terms of their meeting, and he was pleased and intrigued. He was hopeful that this meant that she was taking their relationship, whatever that might be, more seriously. It was just the kind of sign he’d been looking for.

Draco found her by the greenhouses where no one could see them as promised, and without hesitation Draco moved her into the corner of the brick walls, his lips crashing down on hers in a tender but passionate kiss. Her arms snaked up around his neck and she moaned softly into his mouth. It was cold out on the grounds, but before long the chill of the air and the snow falling upon them went unnoticed. Draco lifted her swiftly, pressing her back into the stone as her legs wrapped around his middle, securing her as his lips broke from hers and ventured down her neck, kissing and nibbling at her sensitive skin. Her breathing was quick and shallow, and she moaned as he kissed his way across her chest to the other side of her chest. 

“Draco,” she whimpered, squirming against him. Draco recognized the need for more, his own need growing stiff inside of his trousers. He rolled his body against her, allowing her to feel his excitement for herself. He wanted her desperately, he always did, and it was looking as though tonight would be the night. Their bodies gyrated against one another’s while their lips danced together once more, and then Hermione lowered her legs, moving briefly onto her feet. She reached for his belt and began to loose the buckle. He made no move to stop her, even when she dropped to her knees before him.

Draco’s silver eyes bore down into her bright, nervous ones while she freed him from his pants and took his hardness into her hand for the first time. A shudder ran through him at the feeling of her soft hand wrapped around him. 

“Hermione, you don’t have to-” She stroked him a few times, rubbing the small bead of precum with her thumb, before leaning in to taste him. He watched in amazement as Hermione gifted her mouth to him, taking his length down her throat experimentally. It didn’t matter to Draco that she had no experience. Her mere willingness made him weak in the knees. He’d been resisting the nagging urge to shag her brains out all term, and right this moment he couldn’t remember why.

“Ugh, Hermione, so good,” he complimented her hard work. “I can’t- you need to stop-” he tried to warn her, knowing that he couldn’t last any longer if she kept going, but she resisted his attempts to pull her away, and sucked his head more aggressively, stroking his length as she sent shocks of pleasure through his sensitive mushroom tip. “Fuck, Hermione,” he groaned. “I’m cumming,” he informed her just moments before his release. Hermione jumped slightly as she felt his seed shoot into her mouth for the first time, but after a moment of consideration, swallowed it all down willingly. When he had nothing more to feed her, she released him and stood.

Draco pulled her in, kissing her deeply, appreciatively. “Merlin, I love you,” he whispered against her lips before he realized what he was saying. Instantly, he regretted this, as he felt her whole body stiffen against him.

“Why did you have to say that?” Hermione asked, pulling away from him. Draco took a half-step back, giving her the space she clearly wanted.

“Say what?” Draco asked, not understanding the problem. He’d never said those words to a girl before, and doing so, even accidentally, had taken an amount of bravery that was not often exhibited by Slytherins like himself. They didn’t like to be vulnerable, and for this exact reason. He tucked his softening member away into his pants and did them up again. “That I love you? Is that such a problem?” he asked, disguising his hurt with anger for the umpteenth time.

This time she allowed him to see the tears in her eyes, which made him melt once more. He couldn’t make sense of what she was doing to him. “This isn’t easy for me either,” she argued. She avoided his eyes, blinking loose a couple of tears. “You’re a-” She didn’t know if she could say it. She knew it wasn’t fair.

“I’m a what? Say it, Hermione. What am I?” Draco challenged her.

“You’re a Death Eater,” Hermione answered, looking into his eyes bravely. “And I know, I know that it’s not your fault, but that doesn’t change the fact that-”

It was Draco who walked away this time, unable to look at her any longer. He knew that the mark on his arm, the mark she was the only one to actually see up close, would prevent them from being together, but to hear the words come out of her mouth? His heart was pounding angrily, and it was either get away from her immediately, or do or say something he’d forever regret.

The howling wind did not do a good enough job of preventing her sobs from reaching his ears as he made his way back to the castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few weeks Hermione and Draco did not meet in private again, and on the nights that they shared their patrols, they walked in relative silence. It was a silence laid heavy with hurt feelings and words unsaid, but neither wanted to be the first to break it. Now more than ever Draco felt desperate to talk to her, to confide in her. He’d been working on the vanishing cabinets for months already and was making little progress. What he wouldn’t give to be able to seek her help, but doing so would mean exposing his mission to the Order, and that would likely mean certain death for him and his family.

It was Hermione who surprised him by breaking through the quiet. 

“I won’t be able to patrol with you next week,” Hermione informed him as they made to go their separate ways for the evening. Draco froze, thinking she was about to tell him that she’d requested a schedule change. It would be the last Friday night patrol before they went home for the Christmas holiday, and she was just telling him now that he wasn’t going to see her?

“Why not?” he swallowed a dry lump in his throat to ask. 

“I’ll be attending Professor Slughorn’s Christmas party,” she informed him, feeling bad knowing that he wasn’t invited.

“Oh.” Well, it was better than a schedule change, but still disappointing news. “Alright.” She certainly didn’t need his permission. “So I guess I won’t see you again until after the holiday,” he pointed out.

Hermione leaned against the wall, looking sad. Draco stepped towards her and put his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around him in response, and a moment later he felt her body shake with quiet sobs. He couldn’t be sure if she was crying because she missed him, or if there was another reason for it, but he didn’t get the chance to ask. Without warning she was kissing him, and Draco was unable to resist her, despite his frustration and anger and hurt from their last real interaction nearly a month prior. 

Minutes later they were in the astronomy tower, the large bay windows that circled the spiral staircase serving as a popular location for lovers. They made quick work of their clothes, but Draco took his time exploring her body for the first time. His body on top of hers, he kissed her lips tenderly, before making the journey across her jawline, down her neck, and stopping briefly to pay special attention to her perky breasts. He squeezed them both while sucking one pointed nipple, flicking it playfully with his tongue. Hermione’s back arched in response to the stimuli, and he moved to do the same to the other breast. 

Further determined to worship her body, he smoothed his hands down her torso, circling her belly button with his tongue before finally reaching her core. He could feel the heat coming off of her, and he kissed the slender lips lovingly, before letting his tongue slide between them, teasing her and tasting her all at the same time. He moaned into her heat, and he heard her sharp intake of breath, which she held while he continued to savor her. 

Hermione tangled her fingers into his platinum locks, rolling her body while all but forcing his face further into her cunt. “Oh yes, Draco. That’s so good,” the virgin moaned, reveling in this new experience. His tongue was inside of her now, pumping in and out of her as a delicious sample of what was to come. His thumb pressed against her swollen clitoris, while he devoured her, sending shock waves of pleasure through her body. She jolted, her legs spasming and toes curling. “Oh!” she cried out when she felt one of his long fingers slide inside of her.

Draco was concerned with her tightness. With just one finger inside, any doubts he might have had about the legitimacy of her virginity would have been erased. He pumped just the one digit in and out of her, working her opening as gently as he could. He continued to suck and lick at her lips, especially as he added a second finger. She whimpered and moaned as he stretched her and worked her body in ways it’d never known. Her breath became quick and short again as he worked the digits harder and faster within her. She was so close, and when she wrapped one leg around his head, pulling him in, he knew she was on the verge of exploding. Draco came up for air and, after a moment of contemplation, added a third finger.

Hermione started to scream out, and Draco was barely able to cover her mouth with his own fast enough to block the sound as he worked her over the edge of her first orgasm. When he was sure she could control her volume again, he broke his lips from hers, grinning.

“Oh, Draco,” Hermione gasped, kissing him once more before falling, exhausted, against the stone window seat. “Please, make love to me,” she whispered. 

Draco, lifted Hermione’s legs behind the knees, positioning himself between them. He kissed her deeply as finally he pushed into her, inch by inch. He felt her tense as he stretched her to a new degree. Draco shuddered at the sensation of being encased in her, after so many months of anticipation, and buildup, all leading to this exact moment. 

He worked in long, fluid movements, allowing her body to adjust to the intrusion of him before upping his pace. When she had fully relaxed, he quickened his thrusts, knowing that he didn’t have much time. He’d been waiting for this for so long, and it was sure to be over before he knew it. He groaned and grunted as he hit her shallow walls, and she gasped and moaned in response. He could feel the pressure building in his groin. 

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco, rolling her body against his and attempting to match his thrusts. She’d never known that sex would feel like this. It’d hurt a little at first, but not enough to deter her, and now that they were really moving, she felt her excitement and need growing once more. She clung to him, her nails biting into his back in her desperation to have more of him. “Yes,” she moaned. “It’s so good.” She was nearing climax again, able to identify the sensation after the first orgasm she experienced just minutes before. 

Draco didn’t think he could hold out any longer. Her already tight cavern was clamping down on him as her orgasm came to a peak, and it was doing a valiant effort in milking him of his seed. He groaned, trying to resist, but he couldn’t, and as she bit her own hand to prevent her cries of pleasure from carrying, Draco filled her, releasing every drop into her with several deep, jagged thrusts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being with Hermione that night had been the best Christmas gift he could have ever asked for, but Draco couldn’t help wanting one more evening with his Gryffindor lover. It was the Friday before Christmas, the night of Slughorn’s party, and after finishing his patrol, Draco decided that he was going to sneak into Slughorn’s party. Why not? There were witches and wizards from all over the world in attendance. He was a bloody prefect. Why wasn’t he invited? And with all those people coming and going, no one noticed as Draco slipped in among them. Not even Hermione, who was under the mistletoe with a seventh year Gryffindor, McLaggen. 

The taller, older wizard had his hands all over Hermione, snogging her as though she belonged to him, and worse than that, she was letting him! Draco felt sick, and helped himself to a drink to calm his nerves. He’d never experienced such betrayal. He watched miserably from across the room as Hermione eventually freed herself for breath and saw him. She made some excuse to her date and stepped away, and just when Draco thought that she was going to come and explain herself to him, she instead went and found her friends, who looked unsurprised, if not a little disturbed, by the sight of her being mauled by the wannabe quidditch player. 

Did they know she was seeing McLaggen? He wondered how long it’d been going on. He left the party and began to storm off, making it halfway down the corridor before deciding, instead, that he would like the opportunity to tell her off. He made to return to Slughorn’s quarters when he was stopped by the ever intrusive Filch.

“I’m on my way to Slughorn’s party. Surely you know he’s got a party going on tonight? Couldn’t manage yourself an invite?” Draco insulted the custodial squib harshly, feeling extra bitter after what he’d just witnessed.

Filch sneered at him, considered telling him off, but thought against it. “You’re awfully late, party started hours ago. Have you got an invite?” he asked. “Surely if you’re invited, you’ve brought your invitation?” 

“I had to finish my patrol duty. Didn’t bring it with me,” Draco lied easily.

“Well if you haven’t got your invitation, let's just go ask ‘ol Slughorn about that, shall we?” Filch took Draco by the ear, dragging him the remaining distance to the party despite Draco’s many protests.

By the time Filch had been dismissed, and Draco welcomed into the party, he had trouble locating Hermione. Even her apparent date seemed to be scanning the crowd in search of her. He was interrupted in his search, though, when Snape pulled him away. He hadn’t thought his mood could get more foul than it already was. He was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was forced to wait until after the holidays to confront Hermione for her indiscretions, but by the time they returned and classes resumed, he was so emotionally drained that he didn’t bother. Part of him had hoped that she’d reach out to him, try to apologize, or explain herself, but his coin, which he continued to carry at all times, never burned for him. By the time they share another patrol the following Friday, Draco is visibly worse for wear. He’d committed all of his time and energy to fixing the vanishing cabinet, and his very magic felt depleted. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full night’s sleep, and when he did, it was fitful and filled with the most haunting of images. 

Hermione took in the sight of him as she sat on one end of the corridor, watching him pace rather than walking with him. He looked sad, tired, ill, even. She knew that he had seen her with McLaggen, and she felt awful about it. She wanted to explain that she’d only been with him because she had to go with someone, but it wasn’t much of an excuse when she could have just as easily gone alone, and on top of that, even if he was just a cover date, there’d been no reason to let her entrap her under the mistletoe the way he had. So why had she gone with him? Why had she let him paw at her the way he had? The only reason she could think of was that she was trying to put some distance between herself and Draco. Seeing him now, she realized what a cruel and hurtful thing that had been, and all for naught, because it didn’t change anything about how she felt for him. Just four weeks ago she’d given him the most precious thing a girl could give to a boy, her virginity. It wasn’t something she took lightly.

She knew she run to him, embrace him, kiss him, and tell him how stupid she was being. He loved her. The fact that he was willing to even admit that to her was a huge deal, so why did she repeatedly push him away? In truth, she was terrified. He was a Death Eater, she’d seen the mark on his arm again the night they made love, reminding her of his alliance. He was burdened with the task of fixing the vanishing cabinet, for reasons that Hermione didn’t want to think about, and on top of all that, he’d used an unforgivable curse on Katie Bell, expecting her in turn to deliver the deadly gift to Dumbledore. With all of this knowledge, how could she possibly still love him in return?

They were the longest two hours of his life. There she remained, curled into a ball on a window bench, staring at him, looking miserable, as though she was the one hurting. As though she’d been the one to find him with his tongue down another bird’s throat. It was insulting! Several times he considered rounding on her and giving her a piece of his mind, but frankly, he just didn’t have the energy.

Finally, when there was only five minutes left in their shift, Hermione stood on shaking legs and moved to the nearest classroom, leaving the door open behind her in invitation. When Draco followed, he found her sitting on a desk, tears streaming down her strong face already. Draco slammed the door behind him, causing her to jump at the sound after so much quiet. They stared at each other for another moment, before Draco took hold of the desk nearest him, and tossed it, violently, across the room. Her body shook with a single deep sob, which only served to infuriate him further.

“What the fuck, Hermione?” She flinched again. He was scary when he was angry, especially knowing what she knew, what she’d been keeping to herself all this time. It was a burden, keeping such valuable secrets from those she loved. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said softly. “It was so stupid. I don’t have an excuse.” It was a shitty apology, but at least it was the truth. “It’s not as though I even liked him, I just-”

“No, going around snogging with boys you don’t even like is just a specialty of yours, isn’t it?” Draco attacked her with the question, feeling especially insulted. 

“That’s not fair,” Hermione whimpered through a fresh wave of tears. “How I feel about you and how I feel about-”

Draco interrupted her again. “And just how do you feel about me?” Hermione looked into his molten eyes, hoping that doing so might help her find an answer to that question. The same question she’d been asking herself for months now.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered weakly.

Draco stood in front of her, bringing her face up towards his and rubbing her tears away with his thumbs. The tenderness of his actions seemed so contradictory to his anger from a moment ago. “I’m in love with you, and you… you don’t know?” 

“I do love you,” Hermione offered him, but the pity was evident in her voice whether she’d meant it to be or not. “I just don’t know how to be with you.” It hurt her to speak the words, knowing the pain she was causing him.

“Well, if you want out, then just…” Defeated, Draco stepped away from her and fell back against the wall behind him, and after a moment, he slid to the floor, slamming his head against the wall behind him once before looking up to where the furthest wall met the ceiling. “Get out,” he breathed out the words. When she didn’t move, he decided to be more clear. “Just go. Get the fuck out. Be free, or whatever.” 

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes, but remained unmoving. “I don’t want to leave you like this,” she said to him stubbornly. 

Draco looked over at her, exhausted. “You hooked up with another bloke, in front of everyone,” Draco reminded her. 

“I didn’t want to,” Hermione said, as if that made it any better.

“No, but you’d rather them think that you’re willing to put up with someone like him mauling you in public than admit that you’re involved with a lowly death eater like me.” It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t answer.

“I don’t exactly see you telling your Slytherin buddies about me,” Hermione argued after a minute of silence.

“But I’m not going around pretending to be in a relationship with someone else, either.” Hermione stood up from the desk then.

“Harry knows about the vanishing cabinet. He’s known it since this summer, and he’s positive you bear the mark even though I’ve never told him. And he knows that Snape made an unbreakable vow to help you.” By the time she finished listing off her warnings, she was in tears anew. “Please, Draco,” she urged him, sniffling. “Please don’t kill Professor Dumbledore.” She crossed the room to the door, and turned to him one final time. “You can’t take it back.”

When she made it out into the corridor, the third patrol shift was there to relieve them. Hermione started, sniffed deeply, and wiped the tears from her already tear stained face. She opened her mouth to come up with some sort of excuse when loud, violent noises erupted from the classroom she’d just exited. The seventh year Prefects looked stunned, and Hermione could only walk away before any questions could be asked.

Monday morning, Draco and Hermione each received revised patrol schedules, both believing the other requested the change. Neither of their coins ever glowed hot again.


End file.
